


Pratt

by RandomNotepad



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:06:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28511637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RandomNotepad/pseuds/RandomNotepad
Summary: If the whitetail militia had also saved Pratt when they rescued the Rookie from Jacob.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Pratt

Jacobs army training grounds were being overrun. He could hear gunfire and shouting as he rushed down the stairs. He stumbled against walls and down towards the projection room. He had to get to the Rookie. Had to make sure they were okay. 'Only you' reverberated through his head and rang in his ears as he stumbled, confused, slipping in and out of consciousness. He made it to the large double doors, the projector was still running, shadows and shapes danced in the room as Staci made his way to the three bodies on the floor. He could hear Jacobs voice speaking to him. A firm grip to his shoulder and he was guided to the floor as behind him someone forced thick headphones onto him, deaf to the world Staci's vision went hazy and he finally blacked out.

The whitetail militia's base was like a rabbit burrow. Twisting in all directions, dark, dirty and deep underground. A perfect hidden spot from Jacob Seed.

Staci had woken up, confused and groggy, someone's hand in his face. Rook lay motionless on a couch, one of their arms dangingly limply over the side and in Staci's face from the makeshift bed he had been placed on. His head-ached, eyes scratched and burning from exhaustion. He felt almost dizzy from the lack of rest. Eli sat watching him from a moth eaten armchair. They had met several times before the Seeds arrived, when he had been sent to caution the doomsday preppers about causing a scene in town, which in retrospect Staci was facing several silent I told you so's.

He also knew Tammy, who stood, gun in hand, next to Eli and glaring at him. Staci felt a wave of sickness hit him as he made to stand, falling back onto his ass and holding his head. He heard them whispering but decided to focus on not vomiting rather than eavesdropping. 

Once his stomach stopped churning he looked back to a now empty armchair. Tammy stood, her back facing him in a doorway to his left where he could make out Elis voice and several others. Ignoring them Staci placed the Rookies arm back on the couch and pulled the blanket he had slept on over his colleague affectionately. Making his way through various hallways he found himself in a storage area. Pocketing a bottle of water and some pain meds, Pratt sat in a dark corner and sighed. 

He wasn't sure if it was intentional but he could hear Tammy's voice clearly as she continued to berate Eli and voice her concerns over the Rookie. But her concerns on the Rook were nothing to what she began to say about Pratt. It was clear from the voices that joined in, happily, that he was very much as unwelcome here as Jacob Seed would be and several wanted him removed and the tone of voices were leaning towards more violent means than necessary.

Pratt was beginning to feel unsafe as a mob mentality began to form in the group of voices echoing through the den as Eli's voice was drowned out entirely. Pratt's mind raced, the sickness overwhelming him as pure panic set in. He had to get out. Air, he needed Air. 

There was a ladder in the storage room next to his hiding spot that led to a hatch. Staci chanced his luck and scrambled for the hatch. Feet slipping on the ladder steps from his hurry to escape. It was night. He emerged from the hatch into a bright night sky and cool breeze that pushed his nausea too far. He vomited dryly as he let the hatch slam closed. He scared himself and fell back against sharp bushes. He let the bush thorns dig into his hands as he used them to pull himself upright and made his complete escape. Running down a dirt road made from quad tyres and down as far from the den as he could till he ended up on a proper road.

Thankful to still be in his deputy uniform Pratt made his way on foot, heading for Johns territory and where he hoped he'd be more welcomed or at least less likely to be lynched. 

It was late morning when he crossed the large bridge and into Johns domain. He had been thankful he had been on edge so much, his adrenaline fuelled brain had managed to avoid several chosen, a good handful of judges and one very docile moose that had given him a concerned look as he waded into a lake to avoid it.

Passing by pumpkins and crates Staci's heart sank at the sight of RayRay's. A large metal cage lay abandoned in the drive, dead cultists and civilians scattered around the deserted home. Staci collected a few items from the bodies as respectfully as he could. He also looted the home's kitchen feeling guilty as he opened and ate an entire jar of jam. His stomach thanking him but his heart aching from a mix of emotions. Using a cultists radio he fiddled till he found a strong signal. Praying for a friendly voice to answer he stammered timidly into the radio "hello, this is deputy Staci Pratt, does anyone copy, over".

Attaching it to his belt, he turned the volume low. 

He detached the trailer with the metal cage from a cult car and almost deafened himself when he turned the engine and the speakers behind him erupted with 'oh John'. His head ringing he ditched the speakers onto the road behind and set off down the trail towards the main road and Falls End.

He made it about 10 minutes down the road before a cultist loaded van drove past him, screeched to a halt, reversed and began to chase. Pratt was an excellent pilot, but a shitty driver. Ditching the car as fast as he could, Pratt raced through a field and towards the trees as he heard the cultists stop and continue the chase on foot.

Being forced to run through an obstacle course where you are shot at and screamed at by Jacob Seed gave Staci an unexpected upper hand as he managed to out run and dodge the bullets fired at him. He would have been grateful had he not also been fed rotting meat, been locked up nightly with said psychopath and mentally fucked by a song his mother had danced to on her wedding day. 

It had been a good hour since he'd lost the cultists and Pratt finally arrived at Falls End. He paused, his anxiety beginning to make him rethink his choices. What if Falls End was overrun? What if it wasn't? Was he even welcome?

He lifted his radio and tried another station. Repeating himself he waited a minute before a male voice responded. "Well fuck me sideways and call me Julia is that really you Staci?" Came the possibly drunk but definitely welcoming voice of Sharky Boshaw. Pratt grinned, anxiety forgotten for a brief second "nice to hear your voice for once Shark!" He laughed into the radio that felt warm and comforting in his hand. "Last I heard you was handed off to Jacob up in the mountains Prattman" Staci realised he was still standing in the road, he turned on his heels unsure where to head. "Where are you at hombre?" "Outside Falls End, not sure if I'm gonna get a welcome as warm as yours if I go there though" "well amigo, turn that skinny ass of yours around and head to the jail House, the rest of the officers are holed up there or better yet you walk right past em and head to my little slice of paradise. I'll even keep a beer cold for you". Pratt knew Sharky had no intention of keeping his hands off a beer within drinking range but the overwhelming feeling of being wanted and thought about in a positive way made him feel like crying. "You know I drink it luke warm and half empty Sharknado. Heading your way."

He made it past RayRays before his anxiety and fear hit him again. A cougar. It had been laying low in the grass, possibly stalking a deer when it had been injured. He traced his finger over his handgun. He had found it as well as a few grenades when he had been raiding a destroyed silo which he assumed the Rookie had something to do with. Aiming at the animal's head, Staci took a breath and waited. Jacobs training was hard to ignore. Cull the weak. He had fired already. Between the beasts eyes. A perfect shot. It made him feel sick.

He tipped the rest of the ammo into his shirt pocket not trusting himself or his own thoughts at the moment. He would need to seek help for Jacobs conditioning.

Faiths territory reeked of bliss. Barrels, the angels, fields of the plant and the constant passing trucks. He was seeing stars half the time as he trudged along towards the sounds of heavy metal and mayhem.

His radio picked up a voice. "Trust in the words of the father, we want you to be happy. Those feelings of fear and pain. We can make all that go away." Staci switched channels rolling his eyes. The voice returned "let us help you, you deserve to be happy" confused Pratt switched channels again ensuring it was several over. It came again. "Trust in the father, we only want what's best for you. We're coming for you."

Officially creeped out Staci turned off his radio and took to trekking up a steep hill rather than risk the open road.

Sharky stood on top of a makeshift Platform, beer in hand and flamethrower over his shoulder. He would have looked threatening had he not been dancing, badly. Staci heaved himself up and paused a few metres away from the beer bandit. Letting Sharky close the distance he was enveloped in a bear hug. The smell of fuel, sweat and cheap beer made Staci feel almost nostalgic. He was freed and a cold but half empty beer was placed in his hands.


End file.
